Overheard at Playgroup

Annie to Ben: "If you get a bleeding boo-boo, just come tell me and I'll cuddle you."

Please Ignore the Giant Bags Under My Eyes

The photographic evidence of some recent events:

-I got all my hair chopped off and I love it. It's a very chic, short bob that somehow doesn't feel mom-like at all. I fervently hope that I can maintain it and make it cute without the help of my talented stylist. (Why can't she just come to my house and blow-dry my hair every morning? Why can't I blow-dry my own hair the right way?)

-Annie learned to write her name. She isn't at all proud.

-Jemma isn't really accomplishing anything here, but she looks like she's about 13 years old and is wearing my favorite dress, so I had to include it.

It's been a good start to the weekend. We all used my parent's house as a home base yesterday, so I got to accomplish the haircut plus go meet baby Tate while my mom helped with kid duty. Annie came with me to view little Tate; on the way there, she said, "I'm really into a born baby." Yeah, yeah, we know. Once we got there, she was strangely mute and just wanted to play with Rowan's toys. Oh, well. Maybe (maybe!) she's realizing that newborn babies aren't the fantastic accessory she's always thought they were.

Last night, I took my fabulous new haircut out to dinner with Chris and Sarah (and Jason, of course). I had a Tom Collins, which I had never tried before, and I was pretty into the combination of gin, fresh lemon juice, and sugar. Is this going to be my summer drink? Is this just an upscale rendition of the much-rapped-about "gin and juice"? Afterwards, we went to the Hope basketball game. They won. All in all, a good grown-ups night out.

Today, Annie woke us up at 6:40, demanding pancakes. And now, Jason has whisked the girls off to his grandparents' for part of the day, where they'll play games, eat good food, and stroll on over to the neighbors to view the pigs and cows. I think it will make Jemma very happy. I'm here, ignoring my dirty house and the thought of my weekend long run in favor of having another cup of coffee and doing some writing in my pj's. Bliss.

First Spring Walk

After dinner tonight, it was still sunny and warm-ish, so we marked the beginning of the spring season with our first family walk around the block. Last summer, we did this almost every night after dinner with baby Jemma in the stroller or the Bjorn. Tonight, she was running gleefully down the sidewalk, narrowly missing all the dog-poop landmines, wanting to catch up to Annie. It was great to be outside breathing real air and talking with neighbors; it was tiring trying to keep Jemma from heading toward the street; it was hell getting Annie to come back inside after her little taste of freedom. Friends, it's going to be an interesting summer.

Not-So-Daily Doublesteins

I realize I am posting less frequently than usual. Could be because not much is going on; could be because things are going on but I just don't have the energy to write about them. Lately, I feel like I am at my wit's end by about 11:00 a.m. every single day. No real reason, just some end-of-winter lethargy and the grinding routine of being a mom when my kids are at a stage where someone is always wanting something from me. I fantasize sometimes about the balance my life will find when the girls are in school every day . . . I'll sit down in my living room with a cup of coffee, maybe have some writing to do, pay bills, run errands, figure out dinner, do laundry, talk on the phone uninterrupted, and have literally hours to achieve the things I have to do after 7:00 p.m. right now. But I know that then, I'll probably miss all the wide open time I have with them now, like this morning, when we danced to The White Stripes ("Mom, this music is crazy!") in the living room and Annie helped me make chocolate chip cookies. So I'm trying - trying! - to treasure these days, too, even when my energy is low and my patience is in short supply.

Things that helped today: talking on the phone to Heather about her crazy in-laws (always makes me feel better about my family), books, and the state of the world according to us; getting outside with the girls for a walk around the block with Annie on her beloved scooter; aforementioned cookies plus an unmentionable amount of caffeine; watching the girls play nicely together in the tub; pounding out a little frustration on the treadmill while watching The Daily Show; hitting Target post-gym by myself and finding a few bargains in record time.

A few recent family accomplishments: Jason was listed in West Michigan Family Magazine as one of the top dentists in Grandville (as voted on by peer dentists and area specialists); Annie has learned to write her name and loves to do it on every surface, including, today, the dining room chair; Jemma has added a few words to her repertoire, including "duck," "hot," and "NayNay," her way of saying Annie. This last one is sort of special and bittersweet, because it's what Ben called Annie (and Annie eventually called herself) when they were learning to talk. It's eerie to hear it again, this time from Jemma's little voice, and it makes me realize how quickly the time flies by.

Coming inside just now, it was raining. And even though it was a freezing-cold, driving sort of a rain, it was the first rain in a long time that smelled like rain instead of just being wet snow. Gives me hope that spring really might be just around the corner.

Food, Grown-Ups, and Babies in Tummies

Since the Doublestein family has officially kicked the stomach flu, we have been eating everything in sight. Even our usually-picky children have been quite adventurous, going so far as to, say, try the item in front of them on their plate and find that they might like it. This week, I made these island quesadillas and everyone loved them. Today, Jemma ate some black beans from Jason's fish tacos at The Green Well, our fave local restaurant, while Annie happily dipped her grilled cheese in a yummy tomato-basil soup. Annie found that she likes edamame. And Jason and I have been sneaking to the kitchen every spare moment we get to pop one of these treats into our mouth. Make them, and write me if it is not the easiest and best approximation of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup you have ever had.

All the praise we've been heaping on Annie for breaking out of her food bubble and trying new things has had a few interesting results. For one, she's much more eager to help in the kitchen. Even though it takes longer to let her "help," she tends to eat more chicken lasagna if she got her little hands dirty taking the roast chicken off the bone. So we let her.

Additionally, she's very proud of herself and is doing a lot of talking about how big, strong, and healthy she is becoming. Because what Annie really, really, really wants to be is a grown-up. And the reason she wants to be a grown-up is . . . so she can have a baby in her tummy.

Here's the conversation we had a couple nights ago as she got out of the tub:

Annie: "Mom, I ate so much chicken that I'm a GROWN-UP now!" (huge eyes)
Me: "Well, yes, you're getting much bigger and growing a lot."
Annie: "Mom, no. I AM a grown-up."
Me: "Mmm hmm."
Annie: "And Mom, guess what?" Pauses for effect. "I have a baby in my tummy!"

We have been having some version of this conversation nearly every day for the past month or two. I don't know if it's because several of the grown-ups she knows have recently had babies (or are newly pregnant with subsequent children) or what, but it's her main form of fantasy play. (Side note: If the movie Cinderella ended with Cinderella having a baby, we would really never get Annie to stop watching it. She'd wear a blue dress with Dinah shoved up underneath and live in a happy fantasy world all the time.) I've tried and tried to tell Annie that she has to be much, much older (I have mentioned 30 as just a nice, round number to aim for) to really have a baby in her tummy, but to no avail. Here's the conversation we had as she was leaving preschool a few weeks ago, right in front of both her teachers:

Annie: "Mom, did you know, I have a baby in my tummy!"
Me: "A pretend baby, right?"
Annie: "No, a real baby. I do!"
Me: "Annie, you're too little to have a real baby in your tummy."
Annie: "Well, when I'm six years old . . ."
I cut her off: "Nope, that's still not old enough to have a baby."
Annie pauses, thinking, then tries again: "When I'm eleven . . ."

I know this is her silly fantasy and it's perfectly normal, but I'm spending part of almost every day delivering little mini-lectures about how there are so very many things she'll want to do when she's a grown-up. Go to college! Travel! Get married! Travel some more! Have a job she loves! Make new friends! Learn interesting hobbies! Alas, nothing I say has yet deterred her from simply wanting to grow up and birth children.

Now, having children (and raising them) has been the most challenging, rewarding, magical thing I've ever done. I hope she has the chance to do it, too. But sometimes I think back to my "old" life - the freedom, the spontaneity, the weekend laziness - and I want to grab youngish-looking single women or couples with no children by the arm as they walk past and yell, "You! You don't even know what a gift this is! You're just walking down the sidewalk with nobody needing a single thing from you! Treasure it!"

So Annie, for goodness sakes, don't keep wanting a baby in your tummy quite this much. Not yet, and especially not during your teenage years. I look forward to you telling me there's a baby in your tummy in, oh, about 27 years. Sound good? Good.

Reasons It Needs to Be Spring Now

1. I heard birds chirping this morning when I woke up. Also, there was actual daylight and sunshine at our breakfast table.

2. On Lake Drive, there is a sign that forbids parking on the street between November 15 and March 15 because of snowplowing. Thus, March 15 is the obvious last date on which a snowplow should be needed and therefore the last day of the winter it should possibly snow. So, 11 days to go.

3. I very much need to do the following things immediately: run outside (no more of this 8 miles on a treadmill b.s.); buy asparagus, tulips and other spring produce at the Farmer's Market; drive with my windows down; crack my window open to sleep in fresh air at night; spring clean.

Awwwwww . . .

While watching Cinderella on the couch with Annie last night, the part where the fairy godmother turns Cinderella's dress into a beautiful ball gown:

Annie: "Mom, is Cinderella happy?"

Me: "Does she look happy?"

Annie: "Yes."

Me: "Are you happy?"

Annie: "Yes."

Me: "Why?"

Annie: "Because you're here."

So I let her stay up a little bit late, skip her bath, and have an extra book just for that bit of sweetness. Also, we went to Jersey Junction two days in a row, which just might have contributed to her happiness. And mine.